


Tears of Joy

by milksfavourite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester cries his way through sex, Destiel - Freeform, Imapala!sex, M/M, Masturbation, Sam knows more about Dean and Cas than they do, Sammy is grossed out, Sexy Times, how the hell am I meant to tag?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milksfavourite/pseuds/milksfavourite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel "wings in" on Dean. Things progress accordingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tears of Joy

Dean lay back against the backseat of the Impala and moaned in pleasure. The reason he was even in the Impala was Sam had decided to steal the shower and Dean needed to get off, now. He was so horny it hurt. Damn Castiel rocking back to the motel, soaking wet, his clothes sticking to his body, and his shirt, all transparent and slick against his skin. Dean tightened his grip and worked himself harder, images of Castiel traversing through his mind, almost in time with the strokes of his hand. Yeah, so getting yourself off to the thought of a naked fallen angel spread out and waiting for you wasn’t really the most orthodox thing but Dean didn’t care. He really, really didn’t. So wrapped up in his pleasure, Dean didn’t notice when Castiel ‘winged’ into the backseat beside him.  


“I—” Cas began, breaking off almost immediately, after realising what was Dean was doing. “Oh, uhm. I don’t… I’ll just leave.”  


“Cas! What the hell, man?!” Dean shouted; the pleasure-induced haze broken by the sound of Castiel’s rough voice. “You don’t walk in on other men, especially not during their ‘alone time’”  


“I didn’t walk in though...” Cas mumbled, not looking at Dean and hoping the human didn’t notice the bulge in the front of his vessel’s (notably now dry…) trousers. Now, Castiel was a virgin, this was true but that didn’t mean he’d never had an orgasm. Much to the horror of the younger Winchester, Castiel had asked Sam what to do when such a situation ‘arose’, no pun intended, and Sam had, blushing and spluttering, explained masturbation to the clueless soldier of the Lord. Since then, Castiel had brought himself to ecstasy a few times, but no times were better than the times he thought of Dean. Although he wasn’t sure why, but thinking about Dean and thinking about Dean doing all the things to Castiel that he was doing to himself, had always made it better.  


Dean was still scrambling to cover himself but his jeans were puddled on the floor, and as a result, his leather jacket was thrown loosely over his lap, not hiding anything but the essentials. He glared at Cas, the lingering fever of lust in his eyes. As Castiel watched, Dean’s eyes grew darker.  


“Well, why are you still here?” Dean asked, sarcastically. “Enjoying the view?” he snorted, derisively.  


Well, as you should know Castiel doesn’t understand lying so when Dean asked him if he was enjoying the view, he answered truthfully. “Yes. I find seeing you without your clothes on pleasing.” With absolutely no affliction in his voice whatsoever.  


Dean’s faced dropped into a blank mask of shock. The angel liked— what the hell?!  


Castiel watched Dean’s face and saw that he’d upset him. He didn’t want to upset Dean but Dean had asked him a question. Was this one of the times that the brothers talked about where lying was better than telling the truth? “Have I upset you, Dean?” Cas asked, concern filtering into his tone. “If I have, know that I didn’t mean to. I just meant to tell the truth.”  


Dean looked at him sharply. “Cas, you do realise you just told another dude you think he’s hot? Normal dudes don’t tell other dudes that they’re hot.”  


Castiel’s brow furrowed. “Even if they do?” he wondered aloud.  


Dean looked at him oddly, sitting up straighter and pulling his jacket across his lap a little better. “Cas… Are you gay?  


Castiel had no idea. Was he gay? He knew what the term meant thanks to the Winchester brothers’ banter but he wasn’t true if it applied to him. Sure, he found seeing Dean without his clothes on very pleasing but he’d never found any other man attractive; or any woman for that matter. It was all Dean. It was only Dean. Castiel shook his head to clear. “I don’t think I’m gay,” he began, looking down at his hands. Since he was looking down, he didn’t see the slight fall of Dean’s face. “I do find you attractive though, especially after you’ve divested yourself of cl--” The rest of his words were swallowed by Dean’s soft lips smashing into his own dry, chapped ones. Dean kissed him hard, pressing him back into the seat of the Impala. Castiel could feel Dean against his whole body, as he was lain down. Dean was still kissing him. He tasted like salt, mint and a flavour that was entirely Dean; an odd combination of tastes that Cas found addicting. He licked into Dean’s mouth, his tongue battling with Dean’s in a war that neither of them wanted to win or lose.  


When the need for air grew too great, they broke apart, panting. Dean buried his fingers in Cas’s already dishevelled hair, pulling him closer. “You dumb-ass angel. Why didn’t you say anything before?”  


Castiel shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d react quite like this,” he murmured. He rocked his hips up into Dean’s, eliciting a moan from the man above him. “Especially not like this,” he laughed. He looped his arms around Dean’s neck and dragged him down, so he could kiss him again.  


Their lips met and Dean couldn’t hold in the moan that escaped him. This was better than he’d imagined. Actually kissing Castiel and having the angel nibble on his lips was better than anything his feeble imagination could conjure up. He could feel everything as Cas pulled the leather jacket out from between them. He could the warm, calloused hands as they tugged his shirt up over his head. He could feel the lips pressing kisses to each inch of newly revealed skin. But it was more than that. He could feel the angel. Castiel was in him. Under his skin, filling his mind. And his soul. His soul belonged to Cas. He belonged to Castiel, he realised. He could feel the angel in every part of his being. He could feel the angelic power of Cas that held his soul together. Tears welled in his eyes and a lump formed in his throat as he realised this. He was Castiel’s. 100% Castiel’s. Nothing would every change that. This angel had been to Hell and back for him. “I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.”  


Castiel looked up at Dean, love and lust in his eyes. When he saw the tears coursing silently down Dean’s face, he started. “Dean,” his rough voice choked out. “Why are you crying? Am I making you uncomfortable?”  


Dean shook his head, his emotions rendering him wordless. In the small cramped space, he managed to reach the lever that flattened the front seat, turning the back of the car into a makeshift mattress. He grabbed the top of the seat and pulled it flat. When he had more room, he leaned forward, kissing Castiel softly. Tears ran unchecked down his face and onto Cas’s cheeks. The angel was confused. Why was Dean crying? Castiel had thought this is what people did when they found each other attractive.  


Castiel rolled, so Dean was underneath him. He leant forward and licked the salt off Dean’s face. “Dean. Tell me what’s wrong..” he whispered, his sandpaper voice seeming to drag across Dean’s skin, rough and abrasive. “Please.”  


Dean tried to tell the angel why he was crying but he couldn’t. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “It’s just… I’m yours. Nothing will ever take me away from you. Death, destruction, hell even Lucifer himself, could ever change the fact that I belong to you. I belong with you.” His voice broke. Castiel wouldn’t understand. But he did. Castiel bent down and kissed him eagerly.  


“Yes, Dean. You are mine and no one will ever take you away from me.” Castiel said, against Dean’s trembling lips. He nipped at the lips beneath his, so hard he tasted blood. Dean gasped as the salty iron taste filled his mouth. Before he could push Cas away, the angel had healed the wound with a kiss. He licked over where the spilt was. “You. Are. Mine.” He repeated, punctuating each words with another kiss and a thrust of his hips. The rough drag of Castiel’s pants-covered erection against his bare skin reminded Dean of the fact he was completely naked beneath the angel. Ignoring the instinct to rut against Castiel’s thigh until he came, Dean began tugging at Castiel’s tie, loosening it and pulling it over the angel’s head. He dragged that damn trench coat down off Cas’s shoulders and threw it on the floor of the car. Next, after many minutes of struggle with the buttons, Castiel’s newly torn shirt joined the trench coat. Dean’s hands roamed, exploring the new, yet somehow familiar terrain of Jimmy Novak’s body. Dean was sure he’d love Castiel no matter what vessel he took, but this body, despite being something completely new to Dean, was amazing. Dean reached into the nearly non-existent space between them and grappled with Cas’s belt. Cas was very vocal at this point, moaning loudly as Dean’s cool fingers slid over the feverish skin of his lower back, dipping under the waistband of his trousers, pulling them down, along with his boxers. Shoes and socks followed quickly, added to the growing pile of clothing on the floor.  


Finally Castiel was naked, stretched out alongside Dean, their bodies pressed so close together it was impossible in the inky darkness to distinguish the separate bodies. Castiel was kissing Dean, causing him to lose his breath and his heart to hammer in his chest. When the angel slipped two fingers into Dean’s mouth, alongside his tongue, and commanded him to suck, Dean couldn’t stop the helpless whimper that escaped him. He sucked eagerly on the digits so they were slick and warm with his saliva. He watched as Castiel pushed him down onto his back and drifted his hands down to Dean’s entrance. Dean gasped as Cas’s finger pushed into him. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it wasn’t quite pleasant. That was until Castiel, somehow expertly (must have learned it from the Pizza Man), crooked his finger and stroked that magic bundle of nerves inside Dean.  


“Dammit, Cas.” Dean growled. He pushed back onto Cas, rocking his hips forward. Cas smiled and pushed another finger into Dean, scissoring gently to loosen the tight ring of muscle. Dean couldn’t help the growl that slipped through his teeth at the stretch and burn. This hurt, he thought. Cas saw the pain in Dean’s face and leant forward to kiss him.  


“Do you want me to take the pain away?” he asked softly in Dean’s ear. Dean shook his head, his hair tickling Cas’s nose.  


“No. I want the pain. I want this to be real. I want you.” Dean said. “I want you to be mine as much as I am yours.” Tears were filling his eyes again. Dean Winchester was crying again, for the second time in a night in front of an Angel of the Lord. How fucking ridiculous did that sound? Castiel barked out a laugh.  


“Dean, I am yours. Nothing will change that. This,” a crook of his fingers drew a choked out moan from the other man, as the pain turned to pleasure, “is proof of that. I belong to you. Completely. Why do you think I went to Hell and back for you? Because ever since my Father told me to watch you, I’ve loved you. I wanted to give up in Hell, like so many of my brothers did, but I love you. And I couldn’t leave you there.”  


Cas removed his fingers from Dean, causing the other man to cry out from the loss. He moved to position himself, ready to thrust into Dean, before Dean’s voice stopped him. “Are you clean?” Dean blurted out. “I mean… Shit, sorry Cas. Of course you are. Jimmy probably only had sex with his wife and… you’re an angel…” he said, wonder in his voice.  


“It’s fine, Dean. Really.” Cas said. He reached down and took hold of Dean’s erect manhood. He felt silky soft skin over the hardness.. He felt the blood pumping through Dean’s body. He felt Dean. This human, barely an hour old in the life of an angel. He loved this human, like he would never love anyone ever again he knew. Dean shuddered under the angel ministrations. “Are you ready?” Castiel asked, his voice, if possible, even rougher with desire and lust.  


Dean nodded, not trusting himself to scream out for angel to HURRY UP AND FUCK HIM!! Castiel gripped Dean’s hips and pushed himself into the tight heat of Dean. They both moaned. Dean could feel the angel everywhere. He was completely overwhelmed. More than ever he could feel the Castiel-glue that held him together. He could feel the angel buried inside him. The angry red handprint on his shoulder burned. Castiel lay his hand over it, matching each of his long fingers to the raised scar.  


Castiel could feel Dean everywhere. He could feel the constricting hotness of him. He could feel the part of Dean tethered to him, the part that kept the hunter’s soul intact. He could feel the blood pulsing under his hand, pulsing through the mark that Castiel shouldn’t have left on Dean. He could have brought Dean back, whole and perfect, but he didn’t. He needed to stake a claim to the stubborn Winchester, somehow. He could feel Dean’s calloused hands as they tried to push Castiel further into him.  


They found a rhythm quickly, matching each other’s thrust with equal intensity. The Impala was rocking in time with their motions, quite clearly displaying, to anyone outside, what was happening in the car, despite the conspicuously steamed up windows. Castiel could feel himself getting close to release. He grabbed Dean’s member and stroked him in time with the thrusts into Dean’s body. They were both panting and groaning, their kisses turning into useless mouthing at each other’s necks. They were getting close, and neither of them ever wanted this to end. They wouldn’t, couldn’t, didn’t know how they could ever live without this again. They needed this. They needed each other. Castiel thrust harder into Dean, his movements becoming frantic. Dean pushed back, just as eagerly. They were both losing it. There was nothing but Cas. Nothing but Dean. Dean wrapped his legs around the man above him, hooking his ankles behind him to pull closer, as they rocked together. The slide of slick skin on skin and the heat was everything. Every sensation either of them felt was each other. At that moment, it was just Castiel and Dean.  


Sweat was streaming down Castiel’s body, dripping onto the already salty, sweaty man below him. Cas was thrusting into Dean, the movements of his hand pulling groans the hunter. Castiel could feel his release building and if the lewd sounds he was making were any indication, Dean was close too. They both tightened their grip, thrusting even harder. Dean came first, exploding over Cas’s hand and both their stomachs. As his muscles clenched rhythmically around Cas, the angel came too, with a groan that seemed to drag across Dean like sandpaper.  
Dean cried out as Cas pulled out, already feeling empty. A quick wipe over with Dean’s abandoned t-shirt and they were comfortable. They were both sated and tired. Cas sat up, wiping steam off the window to peer outside. The sky was just beginning to lighten around the edges. Sighing, he grabbed his coat and threw it over himself and Dean, covering them, before lying down and pulling Dean into his arms. Dean fell asleep in Castiel’s arms, and Castiel, though he didn’t need sleep, found himself dozing, half entering Dean’s dreams. Dean was dreaming of Cas. Cas found himself pulled into the dream, deserting the waking world in favour of more Dean.

That was how Sam found them later. Curled up in the Impala, barely covered by Castiel’s trench coat. When he knocked on the window, the angel cracked an eye open and stared at him. The window of the Impala wound down, seemingly of its own accord. “Yes, Sam?” the angel said, quietly, so as not to wake Dean.  
“You realise I have to sit on that seat?” he asked, jokingly.  
Castiel just stared at him. Dean was stirring in his arms, Castiel leaned down and pressed a kiss to the hunter’s forehead. Without opening his eyes, “Do you have a point?” Dean asked. “Or are you just being whiny?”  
Sam laughed. “No point except, you seem to have ruined the interior of you baby,” A not-so-faint hint of disgust in his tone. “Get dressed,” he said. “We’re leaving soon.” He began to walk away. “By the way, took you long enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> First completed Destiel, that was actually written as, not a joke, but not seriously. Gift-fic for Moniker_Hazard. Concrit, if you wouldn't mind x


End file.
